


Burn Away the Past

by dreamiflame



Category: Cupid and Psyche - Apuleius, Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Immortality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-02-29 17:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18783052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamiflame/pseuds/dreamiflame
Summary: Cupid and Psyche, from the cursed sleep through their happy ending.





	Burn Away the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta for a fresh set of eyes and the title.

Psyche lay as one dead, only the rapid movement of her eyes beneath her closed lids and the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest showing life still clung to her. Cupid knelt beside his love, and looked upon her in full daylight.

In truth, he had tormented them both with his rules against light in their bedchamber. He knew Psyche’s touch, knew every inch of her skin against his fingertips, but he had seldom dared take the time to look at her thus.

As beautiful as any goddess, she was. No wonder mortals had worshipped her so.

No wonder his mother hated her so.

Cupid took a deep breath, and leant over her. He could see the dark twisted web of sleep enshrouding her fair form, and with great care, began to coax the spell back together.

It came off of her sluggishly, as reluctant to leave her as Cupid had been himself every morning. Bit by bit he pulled it away from her, and guided it back into the box.

With the lid closed, he could sense it transform itself, back to what his mother had demanded. A tiny shred of the goddess Persephone’s beauty, to help refresh his mother’s.

Cupid rolled his eyes and set the box in a safe place. Without the deathly sleep upon her, Psyche lay in quiet, more restful dreams, and the dark hollows below her eyes began to lighten.

His heart twinged. For all his anger at her misjudgment, Psyche had shown herself a faithful wife, going where she was bid and trying her best at the impossible tasks his mother had set her.

Perhaps something remained to salvage of their marriage after all.

He brushed a lock of hair from her face, and slipped an arrow from his quiver. Enchanted sleep required enchanted awakening, but he regretted the need to cut Psyche again.

A light scratch on her forearm was all it took. Psyche opened her eyes once more, joy filling them as she beheld him. Cupid helped her to sit and tucked the arrow away again.

“Again have you almost perished from the same curiosity.”

Psyche looked crushed, and stared down at the ground. Cupid lifted her chin with a finger, and gave her a smile.

“But now perform exactly the task imposed upon you by my mother, and I will take care of the rest.”

He lifted them both to their feet with a great flap of his wings, and tried to hand Psyche the box.

She wouldn’t take it, catching his free hand in both of hers. “My love,” she said, but then words seemed to fail her, and she stood blinking as her eyes filled with tears.

Cupid knew he should go, for none but he could convince Jupiter to intervene, but Psyche’s wet eyes held him fast.

“I am sorry,” she said. “I was foolish, and you were right to scold me. But please, gentle husband, abandon me not again!”

Gentle, she called him, even after his anger at her. The wound on her forearm wept a small bead of blood, and Cupid freed his hand from hers and wiped it softly away.

“Beloved, I go to save us both,” he told her, and offered again the box. This time, she took it.

“Go to my mother, and complete your task,” he said, and pressed his lips lightly to her cheekbone. Cupid could feel the delicate touch of her eyelashes against his face, and he allowed them both one brief full embrace, Psyche caught in the curve of his arms and wings.

Then he leapt aloft and flew to Olympus, to Jupiter’s throne.

Jupiter was in a listening mood, and in no time had summoned Venus, who cast a suspicious look upon her son but attended closely the words of Jupiter.

It took time, but at last she consented. Cupid kissed his mother’s hand as he thanked her, and she managed a small smile at him.

“You have helped her more than she deserves, my son, but I will give you your joy.” Her eyes glittered, but Cupid knew Venus would keep her word. “I pray she does not give you cause to regret it.”

“She never will again,” Cupid said with confidence, and waited with the others.

Jupiter himself gave Psyche the cup of ambrosia, and she drank, gasping at the strength and flavor of the brew. When the cup was empty, Cupid took her elbow and gathered her up against him.

Already she swooned with the power of the ambrosia changing her blood to ichor and making her flesh incorruptible. “Forgive us,” he said to the other gods, and flew her away to their mountaintop.

Zephyr added his strength to Cupid’s, and together they laid Psyche gently upon the soft grass, where she twisted in pain as her mortality burned away.

“It hurts!” she cried, and Cupid tried to soothe her, though she shifted away from his touch as if it too caused her torment. Unable to lay his hands upon her, he could still feel the heat of her skin, and flew to the river to fetch her cool water to drink.

Psyche could only manage a few sips before the pain caught her up again, and she fell away from him to moan on the soft grass. Cupid wet a soft cloth torn from his robe with the icy river water and laved her face and neck as gently as he was able.

“That feels better,” she managed to say, and Cupid gave her more water as she could accept it, and tended her throughout the long night as the ambrosia made her immortal.

When the sun came up, Psyche’s torment was at an end, and she rose with Cupid’s aid, her beauty restored and enhanced by the ambrosia’s magic. She touched her lips to his and smiled up into his face.

“And now we are one forever, yes?” she said, and Cupid kissed her again.

“Our marriage is eternal, like your life, my love,” he said, and Psyche laughed like bells for joy. He lifted her in his arms and they flew above the earth, the warm winds cradling them from below, and Psyche gasping at all the new sights her immortal eyes could now see.

Her hands fit perfectly into his, and her smile warmed him more than any fire.

“Thank you, my love, for saving me,” she said.

“Thank you for loving me,” he replied, and she beamed at him. “But please, Psyche, in the future, do listen to me when I warn you, yes?”

“Yes, always, my husband,” she said, and they flew together in the warm dawn to Olympus, their home now forever.

**Author's Note:**

> The lines where Cupid scolds Psyche are taken verbatim from the electronic source provide for the story: https://www.pitt.edu/~dash/cupid.html.


End file.
